Episode 3 Missing Code
1086 Words
Kristen parked in front of her house but couldn’t face going inside right away. She dropped onto the weathered concrete step and let the cool night breeze wash over her. Her thoughts kept circling back to the restaurant—specifically to the tall, broad-shouldered stranger she had crashed into. In all her years, she had never collided with anyone so awkwardly. The memory left her unsettled. Even now, the rich scent of his cologne lingered in her senses: warm sandalwood, fine leather, and an unmistakable air of old money.
She finally shook off the phantom traces, unlocked the door, and stepped inside. After splashing water on her face to rinse away the city grit, she fixed a quick bowl of cereal and resumed her paused action movie. Her phone buzzed—Ashley, demanding to know why she had disappeared so suddenly. Kristen tapped out a short apology, and the two friends fell into an easy text exchange while the film played in the background. The conversation was a welcome distraction, steering her mind away from the deep, smooth voice she had heard at The Velvet Table. She didn’t even reach the movie’s ending credits before exhaustion pulled her under. She slipped between the sheets and drifted off, dreaming of rolling green hills under an English sky.
Three hours later, a sharp tapping at the window jolted her awake. Instincts honed by years with the FBI sent her hand flying toward the nightstand for a weapon that wasn’t there. Heart pounding, she crept low toward the glass. A small, familiar face stared back at her through the darkness. Lily—her next-door neighbor’s six-year-old daughter.
“Oh, sweetheart,” Kristen breathed, relief flooding through her as she slid the window open. “What are you doing out here, Lily?”
“I’m okay, Aunt Bell,” the little girl replied, her voice small in the night air.
Kristen’s brow creased with concern. “Where are your parents?”
“They’re away,” Lily said, drawing out the word.
“Away? You’re all by yourself over there?” Protective worry surged through Kristen.
Lily nodded, her wide eyes trusting. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Wait right there, okay?” Kristen hurried to the front door, brought the child inside, and settled her on the couch with a colorful cartoon. When she asked if Lily was hungry, the girl requested something oddly specific: chocolate and a homemade sandwich.
Amused, Kristen headed to the kitchen and assembled a hearty sandwich—crispy bacon, shredded cabbage, and plenty of seasoned mayonnaise.
Lily’s head popped around the corner. “Can I have lemonade too, please?”
“Of course,” Kristen said with a smile, gently steering her back toward the living room.
She returned shortly with a tray holding the sandwich, a chocolate bar, and a cold glass of lemonade. The combination was strange, but Lily ate with delight. As Kristen watched her, an unwelcome thought surfaced: What if you had a little girl of your own someday? She immediately shoved it aside. Not now. Absolutely not now.
Once Lily finished eating, she wandered upstairs. “Aunt Bell!” she suddenly shrieked from the top of the landing.
Kristen’s heart leaped into her throat. She raced up the stairs and found Lily standing safely by the bedroom door, beaming. Exhaling shakily, Kristen led her back downstairs and busied herself with the dishes to steady her nerves.
They curled up on the sofa for another cartoon. As Lily’s eyelids grew heavy, she finally revealed the truth: her mother had fallen ill, and her father had rushed her to the emergency room. Sympathy tightened Kristen’s chest. She stroked the girl’s hair until Lily fell sound asleep against her shoulder, a quiet, unexpected warmth blooming inside her.
———
By six o’clock, Kristen was reaching for the remote to catch her favorite evening news program when a knock sounded at the door. She carefully moved Lily onto the cushions and answered it. Lily’s father stood on the porch, looking drained but relieved.
“Good evening,” Kristen said politely. “Come on in.”
“Thank you for watching her, Bell,” he replied. “I really appreciate it.”
“It was no problem at all.” She hesitated. “How did you know she was here?”
“The neighbor on the left told us when we got back,” he explained.
“I see. How’s your wife?”
“She’s stable now—thank goodness. It was just a bad scare.” He thanked her again, lifted his sleeping daughter into his arms, and carried her home.
The house had barely fallen quiet when Kristen’s phone rang sharply. Assuming it was Ashley, she answered without checking the screen.
“Hey, Ley, what’s—”
“Good evening, Agent Bell,” a deep, gravelly male voice cut in.
Kristen pulled the phone away and stared at the caller ID: MIKE.
“Oh… hey, Mike.”
“Who’s Ley?” he asked, chuckling.
“Never mind,” she sighed. “What’s going on?”
His tone shifted, becoming grave. “We’ve got a major situation. I’m sorry, but you’re going to need to cut your leave short.”
Kristen straightened. “What kind of situation?”
“A bad one,” Mike said. “The state’s AI Defense Code has been stolen.”
Her blood turned to ice. “Who would steal something like that?”
“A high-level target. Extremely dangerous,” he replied. “I’m sending the encrypted file to your secure tablet now. Review it carefully.”
“Understood.”
The moment the file finished downloading and the suspect’s photo appeared, Kristen froze. Her fingers gripped the tablet until her knuckles whitened.
“It’s him,” she whispered, stunned. “The guy from the restaurant—the one I bumped into.”
Her eyes locked on the bold name beneath the image: ALEX HUNTER.
That’s the name he tried to tell you before you walked away, her mind reminded her.
“No way,” she muttered, pacing the room. “It can’t be the same man. The guy at the restaurant looked wealthy, polished… This file makes him look like a straight-up threat.”
She glanced back at the screen. Alex Hunter’s photo stared back at her—sharp, intelligent eyes and the faint hint of a confident smirk. As if the image itself were mocking her.
Her vacation seemed to be already over before it even began.
- Writer
